Journey Around the Sun
by Helen C
Summary: For some reason, everything today had been just another reminder that he was alone. A missing scene for The Journey.


**Title** : Journey Around the Sun

**Author** : Helen C.

**Summary** : For some reason, everything today had been just another reminder that he was alone. A missing scene for _The Journey_.

**Disclaimer** : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**AN**. Written for the MS Challenge 2006. Many thanks to joey!

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**Journey Around the Sun**

Helen C

Ryan felt guilty for sneaking out of his own party and coming back home to hide in the pool house, but everything was just little too much tonight—Sandy's words a little too flat, Seth's efforts a little too grand, Sadie a little too beautiful.

Ryan's loneliness a little too sharp.

He doubted anyone but the Cohens would even notice he was gone anyway, and hopefully they would understand.

Ryan crept into his room in the dark and sank down on his bed, Dawn's letter clutched in his hand.

It was longer than the note she had left him when she had emptied the house in Chino, a few centuries ago.

Did it mean anything?

Probably not.

She had apologized then, for leaving him. She apologized now, for not being able to come.

She had been a mess then.

_"Well she's having a bit of a hard time."_

Obviously, that much hadn't changed either.

Fuck, but when had Dawn ever _not_ had a bit of a hard time?

And why did it still matter to Ryan?

He unfolded the paper and stared at it in the darkened room. He didn't need to see to remember the words she had written.

Apologies and explanations, and for the first time in years, words of pride—"Sandy tells me you're doing well. I'm so proud of you."

Eleven words that dulled the hurt just a little bit.

He hadn't heard from his mother in more than a year, hadn't seen her in even longer than that, yet it seemed that her opinion still mattered a great deal to him.

Funny.

He was officially an adult, so why should he still care about her opinion of him?

He would never be forced to live with her again, would no longer have to pay for her mistakes and her bad taste in men.

Come to think of it, assuming he stayed on the good side of the law, he would never be forced to live anywhere but where he chose to.

A few years ago, he had dreamed of this day—the day when he would finally be free of Dawn and of the Social Services clutches, free to do whatever he wanted. Now that the day was here, all he could feel was emptiness.

And, he might as well admit it, a small measure of fear.

For some reason, everything today had been just another reminder that he was alone—he and Marissa had broken up for good, his family was still away and showing no sign of coming closer (whether that was a blessing or a curse remained to be known) and the Cohens, nice as they were, weren't legally obligated to take care of him anymore.

Ryan didn't think for a minute that they would throw him out, but accepting money from them had always been difficult, and would be even more so now that he could technically drop out of school and find a job.

They would never ask him to do so. Hell, they would certainly protest if he offered, yet part of Ryan (the part that had never believed the Cohens would stick with him for so long, the part that had always felt like he was taking advantage of their generosity) still felt obligated to consider the possibility.

It shouldn't have surprised Ryan that Sandy appeared at this point of his train of thought, given the man's frightening ability to read his mind.

"Kid?"

But Sandy hadn't used this ability in a long time now. "Hey," Ryan said, startled.

"What are you doing here in the dark?" Sandy asked.

Ryan shrugged, staring at the darkened form of Sandy still standing in the doorway.

He knew that Seth's heart was in the right place, he appreciated the efforts his friend had put into it, but Ryan had never felt more alone than he had in this room full of people who didn't know him. He would have preferred a quiet evening with Sandy, Kirsten, Seth and Summer to this monstrous party, but he would never admit it to Seth. Not when he knew how much Seth had always wanted big parties with lots of people celebrating him. He was just trying to give Ryan what he himself would have liked to receive, and Ryan could appreciate that.

Sandy, however, was more likely to understand Ryan's feelings. They may have drifted apart, but he and Ryan had always shared a deeply rooted aversion for parties in Newport.

"Hiding," Ryan said, shooting Sandy a quick smile.

"That bad, huh?"

"Well, no. It's just…"

It was just that he was more dependant on the Cohens' goodwill than he was before, not less.

When he had accepted to live in Newport, he had believed that the Cohens would take care of him until today, then send him on his way. Even when he had come to realize that the Cohens were in for the long haul (had it been during the Oliver thing? Or when he had left with Theresa?), he hadn't considered that reaching eighteen would make him so insecure.

He didn't want to lose them. Screw money and financial security, they had given him a home and Ryan didn't want to be on his own again.

"It's just what?" Sandy asked, his tone reminding Ryan of his early days in the Cohen house—warm and caring. Parental.

It was just that being an adult was frightening considering his track record at decision making.

_"It's gonna be hard time in the big house for you, pally."_

"I don't know," Ryan said, trying to think of a way to put his twirling thoughts into words.

It was just that Ryan and Trey had once contemplated the likelihood of reaching eighteen and had drank their asses off to forget all about their depressing conclusions.

Ryan had both dreaded and waited to reach eighteen.

Now that the moment was here, he wasn't sure what to do with it.

"I remember when I turned eighteen," Sandy started, switching on the lights and stepping closer to the bed. Ryan braced himself for another, "I couldn't wait to be able to vote" anecdote, so what came was a surprise. "I was scared to death."

Ryan looked at his sharply. "Really?"

Sandy smiled and lowered himself on the chair nearest to the bed. "Oh, yes. I told you once that we're cut from the same deck."

As always when that particular discussion and the circumstances surrounding it were brought up, Ryan felt a pang of shame twist his gut. Oblivious, Sandy went on, "Well, I made a few mistakes in my time, and I kept thinking, as I turned eighteen, that I didn't have the room for mistakes anymore. I was away from my family, living on my own, and well… Yeah, definitely scared."

"You were?" Ryan's voice sounded more incredulous than was polite, but the idea of Sandy Cohen being scared of anything was too strange to contemplate.

Sandy seemed amused at Ryan's disbelieving tone. "Yup. So, I got out and got drunk, like any self-respecting young adult would, and I ended up in jail. Had to call my mother and ask her for help."

Ryan bit back a smile, imagining what The Nana's reaction had been.

Sandy nodded, echoing his thoughts. "Needless to say, she wasn't pleased with me."

Having met The Nana, Ryan wondered how any teenager would have dared to disobey her. Of course, Ryan had disobeyed the likes of AJ and paid for it, and was still around to tell the tale. He wasn't sure he'd ever smile and share that part of his history with his kids, though.

"I seem to recall some words about me being an idiot, and about how I needed to do better than that." Ryan flinched. Oh yeah, he had been on the receiving end of such comments too many times before himself. "So, I told her that next time, I'd know better but to call her." Sandy chuckled. "And you know what she said after that?"

Ryan shook his head wordlessly.

"She said I was to call her when I was in trouble, because it was her job as a mother to help me, and tell me all the ways in which I had screwed up. In that order."

Ryan shared a smile with Sandy. The Nana sure had a unique way of voicing her love and concern.

"Not that I always called her," Sandy finished. "But, from time to time…"

Sandy trailed off and Ryan waited, feeling Sandy wasn't done yet.

"I meant what I said earlier, Ryan. About you being a part of the family."

"You don't have to say it, Sandy," Ryan started.

"Actually, I kind of do." Sandy scooted the chair closer to the bed. "You're a Cohen, and that means sitting through boring talks with me, accepting hugs from Kirsten, and dealing with whatever grand gesture Seth decides to throw your way." He winked. "And believe me, I know how hard it can be sometimes, to put up with my son's idea of fun."

_No kidding_, Ryan thought.

_"I met them outside Ralph's. They seemed pretty cool."_

"And that also means that we're here to stay, and that tomorrow, we'll have a quiet diner, just the four of us, and that there'll be cake."

Ryan briefly considered pointing out that the Cohens didn't need to bother with cake, that the party tonight had been more than enough a celebration, but before he could find a diplomatic way of putting it, Sandy added, "Don't even think about it."

Ryan looked at him, sheepish.

"That's what it means to be a Cohen. Or an Atwood-Cohen."

"Eat cake and put up with Seth?"

"And don't forget the part about boring talks."

Ryan smiled, nodded. "I guess I can do that," he said hesitantly. "Well, maybe not the thing about Seth. But I'll try."

Sandy laughed, getting to his feet. "That's the spirit, kid." He looked at Ryan. "There's leftover pizza and beer in the fridge."

"Beer?" Ryan repeated, unsure Sandy was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting.

"One beer." Sandy smiled. "One time only offer—just to celebrate."

Ryan quickly climbed down from the bed. "Sure."

"Should The Kirsten catch you in the act, I'll deny all knowledge and involvement," Sandy finished, only half-joking.

"Fair enough," Ryan admitted.

He allowed Sandy to clasp his shoulder as he walked past, and they both made their way to the house in a companionable silence.

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End 


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